


to build a home

by philindas



Series: to build a home verse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Pregnancy, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s been on vacation for approximately three hours when she gets the phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to build a home

**Author's Note:**

> So...wow. I have been writing this story since the season two finale, when Lilly came to me with this brain baby, and it just...kind of exploded. It started off with the affectionate nickname of the sperm bank au, and it has snowballed into this universe that I ended up absolutely adoring. It's totally au after season two, and because of when I started it/how much I had written, Daisy is still Skye in this fic for story purposes, and Jemma wasn't sucked into the rock because I had no idea how to deal with that when I started this. This fic is my baby, and I truly hope you love it as much as I do. Thank you to everyone who has been my support system throughout this journey- I love you all. There's also a fanmix to go along with this fic! It's on my tumblr (philmelinda). Title comes from the song by The Cinematic Orchestra.

She’s been on vacation for approximately three hours when she gets the phone call.

She almost ignores it, until she realizes the area code is Pennsylvania, and very few people on the East Coast have this number. When she answers, the monotone recorded voice of the Philadelphia Fertility Clinic tells her that unless the storage fee was paid, the sample being stored there would be destroyed within the next two weeks. She barely even has a conscious thought before she redials the number, the steady hum of the ringing strangely calming in her ear.

As soon as a receptionist answers, she makes an appointment for the next week, thanks the woman, and goes to the counter where she’d just purchased a ticket to Hawaii. She exchanges it for a ticket to Philadelphia, texts her mother to let her know she’d be spending some time with her, and goes to get a cup of tea to wait out the time until the flight left.

_

Phil Coulson had been her best friend since she was eighteen, and she’d taken him down in a hand-to-hand match in their first class of the day. He’d stitched up her cuts, put ice on her bruises, brought her ice cream when she’d had her heart broken, and been with her every step of the way through the ranks of SHIELD. Once upon a time she’d imagined spending her life with him in a less-than-platonic way, but he’d already decided he didn’t want to juggle a family along with his career- and she’d very much wanted to be a mother, to raise a family.

He’d been supportive of her relationship with Andrew, from the very beginning. He’d never had a bad word to say about the psychologist, had made easy friends with him; had been the only witness at their elopement. He’d been wary when she’d brought up the subject of starting a family, but she’d been quick to reassure him she wouldn’t be leaving the field for longer than necessary.

Then Bahrain had happened, and she’d watched her entire life fall apart. She pulled away from her husband, felt the dream of being a mother slip through her fingers, and did everything in her power to push away her partner before she ruined him too with the blood on her hands. Phil hadn’t let her though; even after she’d left the field and transferred to administration, he visited her every day, brought her lunch, made sure she ate; showed up at her house on the weekends and brought her books to read- made sure she went outside on occasion.

About six months after her divorce, Phil showed up on a Saturday morning with a packet of papers and a pen. He explained that he’d put a storage deposit for the next five years at the Philadelphia Fertility Clinic, just shy of an hour away from where her mother lived. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye when he explained that just because things had changed didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to be a mother someday. He’d been explicit when he’d explained that he didn’t need to be involved if she didn’t want to- he’d be as there for her as she wanted, and if that was no involvement at all, he’d sign over any rights he needed to.

At the time Melinda had barely been able to hear it; she’d spent so much time trying to forget the person she’d been before Bahrain, she couldn’t imagine herself ever being a mother ever again. She’d blindly signed the papers (much like she had with her divorce papers, and the papers that had transferred her from active field duty to administration), pushed Phil out the door, and disappeared under the covers once again.

She’d hidden away in that office, behind that desk for so long, trying to forget what she’d done, who she’d become; trying to fade into the background once more. And until Skye had barreled into her life, before Phil had dragged her from behind that desk, she’d thought she’d hidden away those maternal dreams. But she’d grown to love the collection of young men and women under her charge; from Skye all the way up to Natasha and Maria, she’d felt her heart soften over the last twenty four months.

She was dragged from her thoughts by her mother putting the car in park. They said nothing for a few moments, the silence comfortable, before she spoke. “It will be nice to have you home.”

Lian said nothing more as she slipped out of the car, leaving Melinda to gather her small bag and follow behind; the moment she stepped through the door, the familiar sounds of her mother preparing tea filtered in through the kitchen. Melinda shut her eyes, letting the scent of home wash over her; jasmine and lavender and floor polish.

For a moment, a rush of longing for real home- _her home_ \- came over her, and she allowed it, lips curling into a sad smile. She wanted Phil’s smile, and Skye’s laugh, and Jemma’s humming, and Fitz’s humor, and Bobbi’s smirk, and Mack’s cooking, and Hunter’s valiant effort to finally become her friend. She knew she needed and deserved this break, but she missed her team; she missed her _family_.

When she heads upstairs, she’s unsurprised to find her room unchanged; she unpacks her bag quickly before curling up on her bed, phone in hand. She debates calling Phil, but she knows if she heard his voice her resolve would dissolve, and she wouldn’t go to the clinic after all. Skye is the next to come to mind, but the wounds are too fresh, even if the girl had apologized more times than she could count.

In the end she slips her phone into the bedside table without opening it and heads downstairs, the scent of lemon tea coming from the kitchen. She pads in to find her mother setting a cup of tea for her down on the kitchen table, she offers her a smile before she sits, hands cupping the warm mug, lifting it to breathe in the scent of the milk and honey.

“Are you going to tell me why you came home?” Lian asks quietly, sitting across from her with her own cup of tea. Melinda stirs the tea around the cup, eyes on the swirl of bubbles in the center of the milky liquid. “The real reason, Qiaolian.”

“I think I’m here to have a baby,” Melinda finally says, raising her head to look at her mother, feeling the smallest amount of amusement at the look of utter shock on Lian May’s face.

“You never come home for anything easy, do you?”

_

Her mother refused to let her drive herself the next morning; the ride into Philadelphia is quiet, though Lian does ask some questions about her team, lips curling into a knowing smile as Melinda described each of the young men and women she worked with daily. Melinda’s own lips tilted upwards slightly in amusement, rolling her eyes when Lian commented on how well she knew her charges.

The outside of the clinic is white and sterile-looking; it seems fitting, and Melinda has her mother drop her off in front of it, agreeing to call her once she was done. Her stomach feels tight with unfamiliar nerves, but she slows her breathing and walks through the door, the warm, vibrant front waiting room easing some of the tension from her shoulders.

“I have an appointment,” she tells the young girl at the front desk when she slides the glass over, smile warm. “Monica Moore.”

“You just have to fill out these papers, Ms. Moore,” the girl answers, handing her a thick clipboard. “Then Dr. Montgomery will come and bring you back.”

Melinda took the clipboard with a small smile, overwhelmed by the amount of questions on the single sheet of paper she could see as she walked to her seat. Thankfully she knew this alias inside and out; it had been the most common one she’d used while undercover with Phil- it hadn’t surprised her he’d used this one when creating the account all those years ago.

She’s thrown off guard by some of the questions- she’d never really taken the time to ask her mother if there were fertility issues in her family, and she could only hazard a mostly well-informed guess at Phil’s family history. She makes it through the questions easily enough, though, and returns the paperwork to the girl behind the glass before she returns to her seat, uncharacteristically figidity.

“Monica?” a redhead with glasses perched on the top of her head calls from the doorway near the back, and Melinda stands, moving towards her with the warmest smile she can muster with her stomach twisting the way it is. “Hi I’m Dr. Addison Montgomery, it’s nice to meet you.”

Melinda shakes her hand, nerves easing at the warm smile the doctor gives her. “So this is your first time here, I take it?”

She nods again, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, and Addison smiles fondly. “I promise we don’t bite. Or at least, I don’t. Elizabeth, on the other hand, can be rather feisty.”

A curly haired woman in a lab coat looks up from the office they’re passing and rolls her eyes at Addison’s words. When she speaks, her accent is British, voice soft. “Telling more lies about me, Addie?”

“I only speak the truth, you know me Lizzie,” Addison replies, folding her hand over her heart as Elizabeth broke out into a laugh. “Monica this is Dr. Elizabeth Corday; she’s head of surgery here. She’ll be the one getting you pregnant, hopefully.”

Elizabeth regards Melinda, eyes softening ever-so-slightly as Melinda politely says hello. “You look just like someone I used to work with a long time ago.”

“That’s a good thing, I hope,” Melinda replies, and Elizabeth smiles, affection in her face.

“A very good thing. She was a dear friend,” the doctor answers, and Melinda smiles genuinely, heart warm. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure. Nice to meet you, Monica.”

Melinda returns the sentiment before following Addison to an office just down the hall. It’s warm and bright, pictures clearly drawn by a child covering her walls. The redhead notices, smiling at her. “My daughter Ella likes to draw me pictures to hang in my office. Does the same for my husband’s office at the hospital.”

Melinda catches sight of a little girl with strawberry blonde curls and a bright smile, between Addison and a blonde man who must be her husband. “She’s beautiful.”

Addison looks at the picture fondly before she turns to Melinda’s paperwork, all business. “So you want to have a baby.”

Melinda takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before she nods, voice confident. “Yes. I want to have a baby.”

Addison smiles, slipping her glasses on. “Alright. Let’s get to work.”

_

She hadn’t realized having a baby would be so much _work_.

There were tests to ruin to determine how thick the lining of her uterus was and what her ovulation cycle was like and how thick her fallopian tubes were. They had to test Phil’s sperm and run DNA analysis and so many other tests Melinda couldn’t keep them all straight in her head.

Addison had been blunt; her age posed a risk, and the percentage of success was significantly lower, but she was healthy and fit for her age, and she was confident that they’d have success, even if it took a few cycles. Melinda was prepared for that, and had agreed readily.

She still had a regular period, which, while uncommon for her age wasn’t unheard of, and helped Addison track her ovulation cycle, and also meant she didn’t have to go on fertility drugs. Once the tests came back, they could use her next cycle the following week for the insemination- which was apparently unpleasant, but not painful.

Her nerves had dissipated; leaving behind a sense of calm, warm happiness in its wake. She wanted this, as unexpected as it was. Maybe it was rash; maybe it was stupid; maybe it was potentially the worst decision she’d ever made. It might not even work. But the thought of a little girl who was the perfect match of her and Phil; who would be so loved and wanted by at least her but hopefully him as well was just too much to pass up.

For the first time in years she felt the desire to be a mother well up inside her, filling the empty space in her rip cage that had been hollow since she’d walked out of the building in Bahrain. It left her warm and content, heating the icy fractures within the hollow of her bones that had formed over the years.

She did tai chi with her mother, ate real, home cooked meals, drank tea on the back deck as the sun set, went for runs in the early morning when the air was still crisp and chilly. She gardened for the first time in years, and she went to the farmer’s market before the sun had fully risen, and she enjoyed the peace and quiet without missions or reports or gunshots.

She found, though, that the tranquility didn’t last. She found herself missing Phil’s voice in her ear through comms, and Skye’s still-not-quite-steady breathing beside her during tai chi, and Fitz and Jemma’s affectionate banter in the lab. It wasn’t the same without Bobbi and Hunter’s arguments, or Mack’s voice asking what everyone wanted for dinner, or the din of the kids playing a board game.

The quiet was almost _too_ quiet at times. Her mother was nearly silent, and while Melinda enjoyed being in her company again, she missed conversation. She missed Phil’s attempts to make her laugh; she missed the way his whole face would light up when he got her to smile. She missed _Phil_.

She felt almost like she was robbing him of something by not telling him what she was doing, but she didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that might not even work. And she still didn’t know if this was even something he still wanted. But she wanted it so desperately now; she craved it, needed it to work.

The morning of her appointment at the clinic dawned cool and bright, the sun rising early and casting the world in a reddish orange hue. Melinda’s stomach is so thick with nerves she can barely stomach tea let alone any form of breakfast. She’d spent the whole previous night trying not to get her hopes up- it was only the first try, and Addison told her not to expect too much from the first attempt.

Her mother drove her and this time came inside the clinic with her; Melinda knew she couldn’t do this alone, and had read her mother in on the cover story for her alias. The procedure is no more uncomfortable than her annual Pap smears, but she squeezed her mother’s hand anyway; Lian simply smoothed back her hair, and Melinda had never been more grateful to have her there.

Elizabeth tells her to be gentle on herself for the next two weeks, avoid any sushi or soft cheese, and that she could take a home pregnancy test in two weeks.

It turns out to not be necessary; she wakes up twelve days later to blood on her thighs and cramps. She tries not to let it bring down her spirits too much; Addison had told her almost nothing took on the first try, so she takes a deep breath, cleans herself up, and counts down the days until they can try a second time.

The next try ends the same, and a part of Melinda is crushed because _what if this isn’t meant to be_. What if this was the universe’s way of telling her she was never meant to be a mother?

“If you believe that you’re more foolish than I remembered,” Lian tells her when she confesses her fear to her mother over tea.

“Mama…”

“Truly, Qiaolian,” her mother interrupts, shaking her head. “The universe does not determine such things. This is what you want. You must believe in yourself above all else.”

Her words are sharp, but she softens them by placing her hand over Melinda’s, squeezing gently. They’re silent for a moment before Lian stands, motioning for Melinda to follow. Once they’re in the sun room, Lian falls naturally into the opening movements of their favorite tai chi pattern, and Melinda allows her lips to fall into a small smile before she moves in step with her mother.

The morning of the third attempt, Melinda rises before the sun; she drinks a cup of lemon tea before she starts her morning tai chi, and lets the pulses of quiet serenity flow through her, pushing away any negativity or nerves that she encounters. Lian joins her midway through, and Melinda’s smile is warm and genuine all through breakfast.

Addison is the one to do the procedure this time, stating that Elizabeth had an emergency c-section, and she plays pop music that Melinda’s sure Skye would love in the background. It’s oddly relaxing, and something just feels _different_ about this time.

The positive pregnancy test that stares up at her two and a half weeks later is a testament to that.

_

It hits her in doses, over the next few days.

At first she wonders if she should call Phil, but she stares at his number dialed into her phone for a solid twenty minutes, trying to gather up the courage to call him, and she can’t. She wants it to be _hers_ for a little while; to wrap her brain fully around the idea that _she was having a baby_ before she pulled him into this crazy adventure too.

The craziest thing, though, was that she didn’t feel all that different. She didn’t look different; didn’t feel like something had massively changed inside her even though it had. She just…felt like herself.

“It is not instant, Qiaolian,” her mother chided gently when she said something at breakfast a few days after she took the test, nibbling on a piece of toast. “You will feel the changes soon enough; enjoy this peace while it lasts.”

Nothing really changes until two weeks later, when she wakes at four in the morning nauseous and with a pounding headache, and spends the next hour on the floor of the bathroom. Her mother brings her a cup of ginger tea around five thirty with a sleeve of saltines, helping her back into bed with a knowing smirk.

She doesn’t feel like herself until nearly seven, when Lian pulls her gently from bed and brings her to the sun room to go through the movements of tai chi. By the end any lingering traces of nausea are gone, and she eats everything her mother puts in front of her for breakfast.

She calls Addison and makes an appointment for the following day, so they can verify the results. She isn’t nervous, per se, but having such a drastic change in her life was mildly terrifying, even for her. Something could go wrong, or this could all be over before it even began, or- well, there was a whole laundry list of things that could go wrong.

“Stop worrying,” her mother chides gently, correcting her form when she lets her mind wander during tai chi. “You’ve missed three poses in the last fifteen minutes alone.”

“I’m sorry Mama,” Melinda replies with a sigh, easing out of the position she’s in and falling back into the nearby sofa. “I’m just…I’m scared.”

“Every mother is scared,” her mother says after a few moments, continuing through the sequence on her own. “It’s only natural. I would be worried if you weren’t scared, Qiaolian.”

Melinda sighs, burrowing further into the couch until Lian finished, coming to sit beside her. Melinda moves freely when her mother wraps her arm around her shoulders; she presses her nose into her sweater, inhaling lemongrass and orange. Lian’s fingers trail through her hair, stroking softly as Melinda melted into her, unexpected tears filling her eyes.

“I wish he was here,” she whispered, voice choked and muffled by the fabric of her mother’s sweater. Lian hummed softly, continuing to stroke her hair.

“I know you do, my love,” Lian murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her daughter’s head. “Perhaps you must take comfort in the fact that soon enough, you’ll be with him again.”

She didn’t have a response to that; she sinks further into her mother’s embrace, and let’s herself cry for the first time in a long, long time.

_

The appointment with Addison is relatively short; they draw blood, check her vitals, and confirm that yes, she was indeed pregnant. They schedule for an ultrasound to be performed in about seven weeks, and Addison gives her a folder full of pamphlets and step by step guides for what to eat and what to do when pregnant.

Her mother thrives off being able to cook for her, and Melinda finds herself being pulled into the kitchen to cook meals more and more often. It’s nice; she’s never been skilled in the kitchen, but as the weeks pass, she finds herself being left to prepare meals with more and more responsibility- and she manages to not burn down the kitchen, and produce some pretty delicious meals as well. When she passes six weeks and there are no complications, she invites her father over for dinner.

“Millie,” he says as soon as she opens the door; she lets him wrap her in a hug, his hands soft against her back as her head falls to his shoulder. “You look well.”

“I know Mom told you,” she replies once he releases her, lips curled into a soft smile. She watched as her father’s face lit up before his hands cupped her cheeks softly.

“Congratulations, Millie,” he whispers softly, his own eyes suspiciously wet. “You are going to be a wonderful mother.”

“Thanks Dad,” she murmurs back softly, unable to stop the upward curve of her lips as her gaze drops to her midsection. “I’ve never been this happy before.”

He doesn’t say anything, merely hugs her again before moving with her to the kitchen; Lian is chopping vegetables at the counter, and she merely gestures towards the open bottle of wine and nods her head at William before she continues with her task. Dinner in the May house had always been a quiet affair, but tonight is different; there’s more than just small talk between the three of them.

“So, does Phil know?” her father asks in a way that’s meant to be casual, but Melinda can easily read through. Her father had always liked Phil- he’d constantly asked her to bring him home when she came to stay for the weekend, and they’d gotten along like a house on fire.

“No,” she answers simply, pushing the yellow peppers off to the side of her plate; merely looking at them made her stomach turn, even though she’d always loved them in stir fry before.

“Do you plan to tell him?” is her father’s next question, and she swallows thickly, unable to look at him as she takes a sip of water.

“I don’t want to tell him until I’m sure things won’t go badly,” she replies softly, fingers gripping her chopsticks tightly to keep the tears burning at the back of her eyes from spilling over onto her cheeks. Lian and William say nothing, but her mother leans over and covers her free hand before squeezing gently, and her father’s grip is warm and comforting where his fingers touch her wrist.

The rest of dinner is quiet, but she knows her words have struck a chord because her mother starts making her favorite childhood dessert while her father does the dishes. The smell of dough and sugar and melting chocolate is enough to dissolve away the worry that’s accumulated in her shoulders, and she sips the tea her father made her as she listens to her parents speak in low voices.

“I think you should call Phillip, Qiaolian,” her mother’s voice starts her from her jumbled thoughts, and Melinda’s eyebrow rises at her words.

“I’m not telling Phil I’m pregnant over the phone,” she replies, and Lian rolls her eyes.

“I’m not telling you that you should. But you miss him, and perhaps talking to him will help, if you are not ready to return to him yet.”

The pit of Melinda’s stomach warms at the look in her mother’s eyes, and her cheeks pink slightly before she nods, and after pressing a kiss to her father’s cheek, disappears up the stairs to her room.

_

It takes longer than she’d like to admit to press the call button, her finger hovering over the circle, Phil’s number dialed on the screen. It only rings twice before it’s picked up, but there’s a pause before he speaks.

“May? Is everything okay?” his voice is so concerned it makes her chest hurt, and tears prick her eyes because _god she’s missed him_.

“Yeah,” she manages to say, unable to keep the thickness from her voice. “I’m fine.”

The words to tell him cling to the back of her throat, but she swallows them, knowing now wasn’t the time. She just listens to him breathe; she shuts her eyes, and if she imagines hard enough, she can just about believe he’s sitting right beside her.

“How is everyone?” she asked after a moment, and Phil cleared his throat before speaking, the slight squeak of his office chair as he sat forward coming through the line and making her smile. He gives her a quick overview, and her heart twists because she misses them all so much it actually aches deep in her chest.

“Skye,” Phil stops himself briefly, and she can feel his hesitation even through the phone line. “Skye misses you.”

“I miss her too. I miss all of them,” she answers softly, fingers playing with the frayed edge of the blanket on her bed, watching the yellow fabric undo itself under her movements. “I miss you, Phil.”

She hears him breathe in, and she’s content just to sit there on the phone with him. They were having a baby and everything was going to change the moment he found out, and she was content to sit in the silence, just knowing he was there on the other end of the line. They breathe together for a moment before Phil speaks, and her lips curl into a smallest of smiles.

“I miss you too, Melinda.”

_

The phone call leaves Melinda with a feeling of buoyant happiness in her chest. Phil had asked when she was coming back- and she’d heard the question of _if_ she was coming back in his voice; she hadn’t said anything other than she would be back. When she was ready.

So, she spends hours in one of her favorite bookstores from her childhood, pouring through their books on pregnancy and parenthood and babies. She takes notes- page after page of notes and tips and theories; it reminds her of Jemma when she’s faced with a problem, and it brings a smile to her face. She missed the scientist.

She works with her mother on tai chi poses that will ease the strain on her back, later on in the pregnancy, and together they make a recipe book she can take back to show Mack when it came to dinner ideas. It’s surprisingly thick, considering how picky she’s become in the last few weeks, and it catches her by surprise how many of the meals she can actually make herself.

The first ultrasound isn’t like anything she’s expecting; the screen is dim and gray, but the tiny little blot on the screen is her baby. A tiny little person she’s making that’s half her and half Phil. The thought makes her smile every time she remembers, her fingers brushing over the non-existent swell of her belly.

Time seems to slide through her fingers; between visiting her father and him valiantly trying to get her to enjoy golfing with him, shopping with her mother and receiving not even close to subtle name suggestions, and figuring out how to go back to SHIELD and tell Phil their lives were going to be changed forever, she reached ten weeks, and was scheduled to go back for another ultrasound.

She felt good- tired, more than she’d ever felt before, and was still having morning sickness nearly every day, but everything just felt _right_. She was two weeks shy of being in her second trimester and the fear that something would go wrong- that this dream would suddenly shatter- dissipated a little more with each day.

Her mother drove her to her ultrasound appointment, and Melinda brought her into the room with her; she was supposed to be able to hear the heartbeat today, and she didn’t want to do it alone. She wanted to be there with Phil, but it wasn’t possible, so she curled her fingers around her mother’s and squeezed tightly as Addison squirted the cool gel onto her stomach.

The redhead twirled the wand around, clicking a few things on her screen; Melinda held her breath, the sharp edge of fear that something would be wrong like a knife against her throat. Addison frowned, and Melinda swallowed, lips parting to speak before the doctor turns to her.

“So, you want the good news or the bad news first?” she asks, and Melinda fights against the prick of tears in the backs of her eyes. “Good news- everything’s going beautifully, you’re healthy, and so is your baby. Or, babies, I should say. It looks like you are going to have two little miracles come April. Bad news is- you’re going to have to buy two of everything now, for the rest of their lives.”

“Twins?” Melinda manages to get out, shock overriding her system as she blinks. “I’m having twins?”

Addison nods, turning to the screen and highlighting the two gray splotches. “It looks like Baby B was hiding during the first appointment, which is why we missed them. But we knew this was a possibility- we did implant two eggs this last time. And there’s no reason your pregnancy should be any different- we’re already monitoring you pretty heavily, given your age, so we’re already on the lookout,” she smiled at Melinda, eyes warm as she placed the wand back on her stomach. “Want to hear their heartbeats?”

Melinda nodded quickly, wiping at her eyes with her free hand; Lian gave her other hand a comforting squeeze, and Addison adjusted a few things, wiggling the wand around until a loud, rushing beat filled the room. All the breath left her chest, and her heart stopped for just a moment as emotion crashed down around her. Addison shifted the wand a little and the sound changed, this one just a little bit faster than the other, and it took her a moment to realize she was crying, cheeks damp as she sniffled a little. She leaned into her mother a little, temples touching, and Addison watched them with a soft smile. “137 and 140- absolutely perfect, Monica.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, eyes glued on the screen, the sound of twin heartbeats echoing in her ears even after Addison had shut the machine off and left them to print out a set of pictures for her. Melinda collected herself, wiping away the tear tracks from her cheeks as Lian handed her a few paper towels to take off the remaining gel before she rebuttoned her pants and slid off of the table. “Thank you for coming, Mama.”

“I would not be anywhere else,” Lian replies back simply, and Melinda’s lips curl into a smile as they leave, ultrasound pictures in hand.

_

Later that night, curled up in bed with the pictures of her babies on the sheets beside her, she pulls her phone out; the need to hear Phil’s voice is too great, and so she dials his number. She exhales as it rings- and rings, and rings. Voicemail picks up after a few more cycles, and she shuts the phone without leaving a message.

Tracing a finger down the shiny surface of the ultrasound photo, she sighed, curling further into herself and tugging the blanket up to her chin, nose buried in the fabric. It firmly cemented the fact that she was going to be a mother- she was growing two human beings inside herself, and hearing their heartbeats today had changed something.

This wasn’t her home, not anymore- she loved her mother, but home was where laughter echoed down the halls and family dinners were loud and rambunctious. Home was where Phil and Skye and the rest of her team was, and maybe it was time to go back. She missed them, and she was ready for this to not just be hers anymore; she was ready to share it with her family.

She’d wait until she’d passed into the second trimester, and then she’d buy her plane ticket back to the Playground. Back to Phil and Skye and everyone she’d missed ever since she’d stepped off base on leave. The thought of returning to the people who had become her family warmed her from the inside out, and she fell asleep smiling, fingers on the pictures of her future and images of the ones she loved in her thoughts.

_

She feels all the blood rush to her toes the moment she sees him.

She’d managed to avoid coming in contact with anyone else on her way to his office- she hadn’t wanted anyone to know before he did. She didn’t want him to hear it from anyone but herself. He deserved that, at least.

She can feel his eyes on her as she shuts the door behind her, fingers pressed against the wood. He inhales sharply as his eyes land on her torso, where there was a bump- small, but noticeable, and she takes a breath as she collects herself. She watches him swallow, his face pale, and her throat catches as she realizes just how much she’s missed him over the last few months.

“I’ve missed you, Phil,” is all she can manage once she finds her voice. He stands from the desk but doesn’t say anything, lips parting slightly as his eyes stay level with the swell of her abdomen she knows he can see.

“Clearly,” he says after a moment, voice thick as he avoids her gaze entirely. There’s another pause, the silence stretching around them before he speaks again. “Does Andrew know?”

“No,” she replies softly, shaking her head. “He isn’t the father. You are.”

Phil literally takes a step backward at her words, his fingers grasping the edge of his desk to stay upright as the shock registers in his face, jaw dropping before he can compose himself. “But we never…”

“Do you remember what you told me seven years ago?” she interrupts, watching him frown as his forehead creased in concentration. “You told me I still deserved a future; that I wasn’t too broken to have a family. I didn’t believe you then; I couldn’t. But then you came to my desk two years ago and asked me to be a part of this team, and things changed. And we have made a family here, together. The clinic called while I was waiting for my plane and I just felt like…like it was time to accept that future I’ve always wanted. It was time to accept that that future wasn’t gone forever, like I spent so long believing. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I thought you might talk me out of it and…I’m not the only one who deserves a future outside of this job, Phil. You do too.”

She pauses, catching her breath, gaze on the fingers she’s knotted together in front of herself, knuckles white with the force of her grip. She inhales, looking up at him with the burn of tears in the back of her eyes. “You can be mad at me if you want. You can hate me. But they don’t deserve it.”

“They?” he manages to ask, voice hoarse and ragged in his throat as he looks up from the floor. She nods, wiping away the tears collecting beneath her eyes.

“Fraternal twins,” she answers, digging into her pocket and pulling out the latest ultrasound pictures. She closes the distance between them, holding the pictures out and allowing him to take them from her, his hand shaking. “They’re both healthy and growing perfectly. Baby A was sucking their thumb at the last check up.”

She watched as his fingers trembled, the thin paper of the photos shaking as he looked down at their daughters. She swallowed, stepping forward slightly and wrapping her hands around his.

“You left,” he whispers, finally looking up at her; his eyes are dark and tired, and he looks older than she’s ever seen him.

“I had to,” she replies softly, voice thick in her throat. “I came back.”

His fingers tangle with hers, pulling her closer until his arms come around her; she buries her face in the collar of his suit, inhaling. “I’ll always come back.”

They stand in silence for a long time; Melinda starts to shift when the position becomes uncomfortable for her back, but doesn’t move far from him. He swallows, running his hand over his face as he sighs.

“You’re healthy?” he asks, clearing his throat and looking at her. She nods, tucking her hair behind her ear and shifting her feet.

“There’s an increased risk because of my age, and the fact that I’m pregnant with twins, but when I left Philadelphia the doctor I was seeing there was pleased with my progress,” she answered, hand coming to rest against the curve of her stomach. “She sent my files to a doctor nearby; I have an appointment in a few days, if-”

“Yes,” Phil cuts her off, reaching for her hand. “I want to be there.”

Melinda smiles, eyes shiny with tears as she wipes at her face, exhaling shakily. “I really have missed you, Phil. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner I just…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Melinda,” Phil says after she trails off, reaching his hand up to brush away a stray tear, palm warm against her cheek. “Just promise you’re home for good now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, hand coming up to press against his. “You’re stuck with us.”

She guided his hand down to rest against the swell of her abdomen, his palm warm through her shirt. He didn’t reply, but the half-smile his lips curled into was answer enough.

_

She’s unsurprised to find most of them in the kitchen.

She left Phil to finish paperwork after agreeing to him making her dinner later, and had checked a few of the lounges, finding them all empty. As she enters the hallway leading to the kitchen, though, she can hear the soft din of voices and the crackle of bags of chips. She takes a deep breath just outside the doorway before she enters, shoes thumping softly on the metal floor.

Skye’s the first one to notice her; she shoots out of her seat, face lighting up as she moves to round the table. “May! You’re back!”

She’s halfway to her when she falters; her eyebrows knit together in confusion before her gaze drops to Melinda’s midsection, eyes widening. She slows just before she reaches Melinda’s side, swallowing as she lingers awkwardly.

“I’m still me,” she says softly, fingers catching Skye’s wrist. Skye’s eyes are guarded, but Melinda pulls her into a hug; Skye burrows into it immediately, face pressed to her neck.

“I missed you so much,” Skye whispered, hugging Melinda tighter. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“I could never leave you,” Melinda murmured, one hand coming up to stroke through Skye’s hair. Bobbi came up next to them, taking Melinda’s free hand and smiling at her, her grip strong. “I will always come home, Skye.”

“Is this still home?” Skye asks into her neck, and Melinda can feel her trembling against her. She pulls back, placing her hands on Skye’s shoulders and forcing her to look into her eyes.

“This has always been home. You are all my home,” she answers, making sure to look at everyone in the room to be certain they understood. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long, but I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” is all Skye can say, eyes bright with tears; Melinda nods, and Skye throws herself back in her arms, sniffling into her neck. Melinda rubs her back, holding her tightly as she murmured soothingly into her ear. “Congratulations. I’m sure Doctor Garner is happy.”

“Andrew isn’t a part of my life anymore,” Melinda replies, stepping back and wiping away the last of Skye’s tears. “I am pregnant, but not with Andrew.”

“Please tell me Coulson’s the daddy, it’s about time you two got your acts together,” Natasha Romanoff’s voice comes from behind them as she walks through the doorway, moving towards the fridge and pulling out a beer.

“Hello Natasha,” Melinda says, fondness in her tone as the redhead beams at her.

“Hey Mel,” she replies, twisting the cap off her beer. “I’m helping out, by the way, since the One-Handed Wonder upstairs finally cracked and admitted he needed a deputy and that he’s, y’know, alive. Maria’s in the training room with Steve and Clint’s somewhere taking a nap.”

Melinda rolled her eyes, allowing Skye to settle against her side. “To answer your statement, yes, Phil is their father.”

“Their? As in, multiple?” Mack asks, looking up from the chips he’d been digging through at her words. Melinda nods and Skye makes a high-pitched squeaking noise, hugging her tighter as she nestled into her side.

“Twins. They’re due in a little over five months,” she answers, smiling down at the brunette. “I know this is rather sudden for you all, but-”

“Don’t say another word,” Jemma interrupts, coming over from where she’d been leaning back against Fitz and taking her hand. “We couldn’t be happier for you, and if you need _anything_ please just ask.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Melinda replies, smiling softly and hugging her once Skye released her. “Thank you, all of you. I know I was gone for longer than expected, but I promise I’m here to stay, now.”

“Good. Maybe you can get Hunter to stop treating me like a china doll,” Bobbi says, rolling her eyes as Hunter walked into the kitchen at just that moment, huffing childishly.

“If it helps, I still think you’re a demonic hellbeast,” he replies, folding his arms over his chest before he looked over at Melinda. “May, you’re back. And pregnant.”

“Good observation skills, Hunter,” Melinda responds, raising an eyebrow. “Still don’t like you.”

“Join the club. I’m pretty sure they’ve made jackets at this point.”

“They’re leather,” Bobbi and Mack reply together; Skye laughs into Melinda’s ear and Fitz smiles as he wraps an arm around Jemma’s waist, while Natasha watches with amusement etched in her features.

Melinda was happy to be home.

_

The next morning Melinda woke up surrounded by the scent of Phil; she’s confused for a moment until she remembers dinner with him and falling asleep while watching a movie. She can’t remember which one, but Phil had spent most of dinner explaining the plot of the previous movies since it was the fourth or fifth, and something about car racing. She’d just been happy to be with him; to listen to his voice, to watch him smile, to just _be with him again_ after so long. She vaguely recalls him helping her to bed and tucking her in; she knows he’d slept on the couch, because it was what he’d done for as long as she could remember whenever she fell asleep at his place.

She can’t hear any sounds from the rest of his rooms, and she’s mildly shocked to see how late she’d slept; she slides out of his bed and rifles through his closet until she finds his old Academy hoodie. Pulling it on over the comfort clothes she’d worn the previous night, she pads into his kitchen to find a box of her favorite tea on the counter and the kettle resting on a front burner, waiting to be heated. The note on the table is short but sweet, telling her he was going out to talk to Tony about the fitting for his new hand- something else he’d shared with her last night- and he’d be back late.

She curls up on the couch while the kettle heats, flipping through files that Phil had left for her of some of the powered people they’d encountered while she was away. She smiled at the small notes he’d left, like “not fond of other people” or “could probably stand to shower more” in his crooked, scribbly handwriting- slightly messier having been done with his right hand in the absence of his left.

She pushes the thoughts of how she’d almost lost him from her mind, and makes her tea; she brings it with her as she pads through the base, uncaring about her still bed-tousled hair or Phil’s sweatshirt or the fact that it was nearly ten in the morning. Skye finds her as she enters the kitchen, looking for something more appealing than Phil’s breakfast bars.

“Good morning,” the brunette says, beaming at her as she opens the wrapper of a granola bar, settling opposite her at the table.

“You seem chipper,” Melinda responds, smearing peanut butter on the toast she pulls from the toaster, licking the access off her thumb. Skye ducks her head, cheeks flushing, and Melinda’s lips curl in amusement as she settles in her seat.

“So I know yesterday was a bit rushed in terms of bringing you up to speed but, um- we found Trip.”

Melinda’s mouth dips into a frown, lips parting in question as Skye looks up, lifting a finger to stop her from speaking.

“He didn’t die in the underground city,” Skye continues, speech speeding up as she rested her elbows on the table. “The rock affected him too- only, he couldn’t control it as well.”

“But his body-”

“Wasn’t in the rock,” Skye answers, leaning forward slightly. “It was hollow, as it turns out- because Trip can become invisible. That’s his power. In the weeks following everything, though, Trip was here, but was vibrating at such a high frequency that no one could see him, or hear him, or even touch him.”

Skye’s face is tinged with sorrow and a trace of self-hatred at the last comment, and Melinda reaches forward, fingers touching her wrist lightly, in both comfort, and a silent nudge to continue.

“Anyway, after I came back from Afterlife, I started to notice a high buzzing noise whenever I walked into one of the living rooms,” Skye starts again, fingers gripping Melinda’s tightly. “It took a few tries, and some help from Fitz, but eventually I was able to slow the vibrations down, and- and then Trip appeared.”

“He was okay?” Melinda asked, and Skye nodded, relief clear in her features.

“He was dehydrated, and tired, but he’s perfectly fine,” she answered, a soft sigh leaving her throat. “We’ve been working on his control- he can become invisible easily enough, but sometimes still needs my help to become visible again.”

Skye’s cheeks are pink and her eyes bright, and Melinda smiles softly at her.

“Something tells me you’ve become more than friends,” she comments, watching in amusement as Skye ducked her head, the heat in her cheeks flaring from rose to bright red. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Skye.”

“I thought I’d lost him,” Skye murmurs, finally looking up at her, a contentedness in her face that Melinda’s never seen before. “When I saw him standing there, perfectly fine, I knew I couldn’t not tell him what he meant to me. I couldn’t lose him again with him not knowing how important he was to me.”

Melinda squeezes her hand gently, but her smile is forced, her mind slipping to the memory of Phil on a gurney, his suit covered in blood and his handless arm clutched to his chest. The memory of how pale he was; the memory of the split second where she’d thought he was dead- and this time, there was no magical Tahiti to send him to that would bring him back to her.

“He’s training with Sam Wilson a lot- they get along really well, and we’re working on extending his power to turn things attached to him invisible. Sam wants to teach him to use something like the Falcon wings, and see if Trip can turn those invisible while he’s flying,” Skye explains, eyes alight as she explained, lips curled into a smile. “It’s hard work, but they have fun together, and Sam brings Steve around to train with them a lot. He’s actually at Avengers Tower with them, which is why he isn’t here- Pepper needed a few extra hands for the week since Tony’s out here talking to Coulson.”

“Sounds like I’ve missed a lot,” Melinda replied softly, fingers stroking over the back of Skye’s hand briefly before retracting her hand, letting it fall into her lap.

“You’re here now, though,” is Skye’s response, giving her a small smile. “And I could use some critique on my tai chi.”

“Let me go wash my face, I’ll meet you at the mats,” Melinda answered the young agent’s silent question, smiling gently. The brunette smiled before leaving the kitchen, and Melinda finished the last of her tea before standing, rubbing her hand over the swell of her abdomen lightly. “Let’s go see if any of Mommy’s tai chi clothes still fit.”

_

When Melinda arrived to the lower level gym, not only was Skye waiting for her, but Bobbi was as well.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” is Skye’s way of explanation, and Melinda smiles warmly at the blonde.

“I’m sure you’ll be a better student than Skye was,” she replies, and the brunette pouts until Melinda nudges her lightly, getting her feet into position. “Just put your feet like this to start; if you don’t have a solid stance, the rest of the sequence will be out of sync.”

Melinda had tried to keep up with tai chi over the months, but she found herself going through the motions even slower than necessary; she checked on Bobbi regularly, pausing when she noticed the pain evident in the blonde’s face.

“Hey, hey sit down,” Melinda said, guiding the taller woman to sit in one of the nearby chairs. She watched as Bobbi blinked back tears, rubbing her right knee.

“I’m _broken_ ,” she manages to hiss out, unable to stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. “I can barely walk, I can barely stand, I can’t do _anything_. I’m _useless_ now.”

“Barbara Morse you are not useless,” Melinda interrupts before Bobbi can say anything else, face firm. “You are a brilliant scientist. You’re the best biologist in SHIELD history. You’re as smart as Bruce Banner, and he’s told you that himself. You are _healing_. And healing takes time- I know that more than anyone. If you push yourself too hard, too fast, you’ll do even more damage. I know it’s hard, honey. I know it’s frustrating. But we are here to help you, every single step of the way. And I know Hunter is an idiot, but he’s an idiot that loves you, and wants you to heal. Let him help you. Let _us_ help you.”

Bobbi blinked at her, cheeks damp with tears, before the left corner of her mouth turned up; a half-smile. “You know, that’s more than I’ve heard you say at once in the entire decade I’ve known you.”

“You’re not the only one adjusting to change,” Melinda replies, squeezing her knees softly. “We can adjust together. You don’t have to be alone.”

“I’d like that,” Bobbi answers softly, letting Melinda’s hand cover hers and squeeze softly. Skye came over to join them, kneeling next to Melinda and taking Bobbi’s other hand, smiling up at her.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for,” the brunette affirms. “Even if it’s as dumb as vanilla ice cream at four am, I’ll get it.”

That got Bobbi to laugh, and Melinda smiled at the two girls, squeezing their hands gently before pushing herself in a standing position.

“Okay, let’s see if we can adjust some of these moves to hurt your knee less.”

_

Melinda’s waiting in the hanger when the plane lands; she shifts her weight as it lands, and the pilot goes through the process of checking the flight logs before exiting. He makes it four steps off the bridge before Melinda starts moving to him; his face lights up, and his arms wrap around Melinda as she reaches him, pulling her into a hug as he lets out a laugh. “May! God it’s so good to see you again.”

“Not nearly as good as it is to see you, Trip,” Melinda replies, unable to stop the tears that leak from her eyes as she hugs him as tightly as she can with the curve of her abdomen. “I am so happy that you’re okay.”

“I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere,” he replies, pulling back and giving her one of those smiles she’s missed so much, his whole face lit up. “C’mon girl- I gotta go see my girl and give Coulson a report.”

He wraps an arm around her shoulders, walking with her. His thumb brushes over her shoulder as they walk, an easy motion that helps remind her this is real and not a dream. “Skye told me the news- I’m so happy for you, congrats May.”

“Thank you,” she says, giving her a smile as they walk, finding Skye in the hallway just outside the hanger. She’s smiling so hard she looks fit to burst; Melinda steps aside as Skye nearly launches herself at Trip- he scoops her up easily, holding her tightly against him as she buries her face in his neck. He whispers something to her, too softly for Melinda to hear, but Skye’s hands cup his cheeks as her mouth finds his, and there’s something so intimate between them that Melinda has to look away, feeling as though she was intruding.

“I’m so happy you’re both back,” Skye says and Melinda looks up, letting the younger girl take her hand as they walked to Phil’s office. “It finally feels like normal around here.”

“I hope you’re ready to be up at six am every morning again,” Melinda tells her, and Skye groans, throwing her head back.

“I take it back, I’m definitely not happy to be getting up before the sun even rises every day,” she says, but there’s no force behind her words, and the smile that keeps threatening to overtake her face belays her true excitement. “I promised Steve I’d do some training with him and Nat, but I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

She presses another kiss to the corner of Trip’s mouth and squeezes Melinda’s hand before she disappears, leaving them both with small, amused smiles on their faces. Melinda shook her head affectionately, touching Trip’s bicep gently to get his attention. “I’ll let you give your report to Phil. It’s so good to have you back, Trip. I really am so happy to see you again.”

“Same to you, May. I look forward to meeting my new copilots,” he tells her, gaze warm. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She nods, watching him go, a hand against her belly. She looks down, smiling. “That’s your big sister’s boyfriend. You’re really gonna like him.”

The smile doesn’t leave her face for the rest of the afternoon.

_

The morning of Melinda’s appointment dawned cold and miserable; it was pouring as they left the Playground, rain pounding against the windshield of the SUV she was driving, Phil in the passenger seat.

“You know the last time we drove together we got hit by a semi-truck,” Melinda teases gently, trying to break the tension settled between them.

“Let’s avoid a repeat of that,” Phil replies, not quite smiling, though there’s a trace of amusement in his tone, which causes the corner of Melinda’s mouth to curve upwards.

“You’re allowed to smile, you know,” she says after a moment, keeping her eyes on the road. “I know it’s all doom and gloom outside but it’s not forbidden for you to be excited.”

“I am excited, Melinda,” Phil said immediately, reaching over to cover her hand with his and squeezing gently. “I want to be here, with you, more than anything.”

Melinda gave him a half-smile before turning back to the road, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She watched Phil shift in the seat beside her for a few moments before he turned back to her, lips parting. “I just…want this to feel like _ours_. Because right now it feels like…like it’s just yours.”

“Phil…” Melinda replied softly, sadness in her eyes as she trailed off, unable to form a proper response. “I want you here. Very much. I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that.”

Phil didn’t respond, but he kept his hand in hers for the rest of the drive, and it was enough.

The doctor’s office is quiet and out of the way, a secluded and nondescript building that calmed Melinda’s nerves as she parked the SUV. She grabbed the paperwork Addison had given her at the last appointment and guided Phil towards the front door, smiling at his uncharacteristic nervousness. “I promise they won’t bite, Phil.”

He threw her an affronted glare and she shook her head fondly, going to the window to check in before taking a seat beside Phil, rubbing her side gently as she frowned, stretching. “Are you okay Mel?”

“I’m fine, it’s just my side. It’s starting to hurt a little as I get bigger. Addison said it’s perfectly natural, there are just some stretches I should try to do every day to prepare the muscles. I forgot to do them this morning,” she replied, wincing slightly as she twisted her torso back and forth slowly. “I’ll just have to take a bath tonight. The hot water helps.”

Phil nodded, looking a little lost, and she leaned over to touch his hand. “We’ll go to the bookstore after, if you’d like. There are some really great books for dads-to-be that Elizabeth recommended. I know this is new, but we can make it not so overwhelming.”

“I’d like that,” he replied, twining their fingers together and she smiled, squeezing back when his hand gripped hers. They both looked up at the sound of the nurse calling Melinda’s alias, and their hands stayed joined as they followed the nurse into the back.

“Three pound weight gain, very nice Monica,” the nurse said approvingly as Melinda stepped off the scale, stuffing her feet back into her shoes before they moved into a private room. “Doctor Shepard should be in momentarily, I’m just going to get some of your vitals while we wait.”

Melinda nodded as the nurse took her blood pressure and temperature and felt her pulse; she was jotting notes down when a petite, dark haired doctor walked in, eyes on her clipboard. “Hi Monica, I’m Amelia Shepard- Addison sent me your charts and brought me up to speed,” she said, looking up and giving Melinda a smile, reaching out to shake her hand. “And I take it this is Dad?”

Phil looked up and smiled, nodding a little hesitantly before shaking Amelia’s hand. “That’s me. I’m Dad.”

“Well Dad, let’s get to hearing those babies’ heartbeats why don’t we?” Amelia asked, still smiling as she turned to put on a pair of gloves before grabbing a tape measure. “I’m just going to measure your belly to do a growth check, then we’ll bring the ultrasound machine in here and take some pictures, okay?”

After Amelia confirming the babies were growing perfectly and both Phil and Melinda sighed in relief, they brought the machine in and Amelia had Melinda lie back and tug her shirt up, exposing the curve of her stomach. Phil came to stand behind her and Melinda’s fingers naturally found his; they both watched intently as the technician swirled the wand through the gel on Melinda’s stomach until she reached forward, pointing to the left of the screen. “There’s Baby A. They’re in a good position- we could give you the sexes today, if you wanted.”

Melinda looked up at Phil, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugged, reaching down to brush a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “Only if you want to find out.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said softly, and Phil’s smile softened.

“We’d like to find out,” he told the technician, and Melinda’s grip on his hand tightened as the technician clicked a few buttons before turning to them with a smile.

“Well, Mom and Dad, it looks like you’re going to be having two little girls,” she tells them, and Melinda feels her heart stop in her chest as joy floods her from head to toe. “And here are their heartbeats.”

The loud, stead whooshing noise that filled the room caught her off guard, despite having heard it before, and when she looked up at Phil she wasn’t surprised to see tears in his eyes. She squeezed his hand, leaning her own damp cheek against his knuckles as they listened to the sound of their daughters’ hearts beating in sync.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” Phil whispers, voice thick with emotion, and Melinda nodded in agreement. “Those are our daughters.”

“I know,” is all she can say, her own throat clogged as she was overwhelmed with the sense that at the end of this road she was going to be holding two tiny little baby girls that they had made.

“It feels like ours now,” Phil murmurs into her hair so that only she can hear and she gives him a tremulous smile, feeling tears coat her lashes that he wipes away with a gentle touch. “We’re in this together. I promise. Every single bit of it. I’m with you until the end.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, warm and dry, and she closes her eyes briefly, tears slipping down her cheeks. She can’t reply, too overcome with emotion, but she nods hurriedly, wiping at her cheeks as the technician wipes the gel from her stomach. Phil’s hand is warm on her back as they leave the office after scheduling their next appointment, and it’s grounding and safe and comfortable, and for the first time in so long, she feels like she can breathe.

She felt like she was _home_.

_

“Up for a game of darts?” Melinda looks up from the report she was skimming through at Clint’s voice, and she nodded, taking his hands as he helped her stand.

“You’re on,” she replies, following him over to the board against the back wall.

“You sure you can still aim? Y’know, with your new center of gravity and all,” Clint teases, and Melinda rolls her eyes, shaking her hair out.

“I’m telling Laura you said that,” she says as she lines up her shot, throwing the dart and hitting just left of the bullseye, earning herself an impressed whistle from the blonde archer.

“Nice shot, Momma,” Clint says and Melinda uncharacteristically flushes with happiness at the nickname; Clint notices, his smile soft, as he lines up his own shot. “You know, if you were having a kid with anyone else, I’d feel the need to go threaten their life if they hurt you.”

“If I recall, you did try to do that once with my ex,” she replies, raising an eyebrow, and Clint rubs at the back of his neck, coloring rising from his collar. “What makes Phil so special that he doesn’t get the same treatment?”

“He’s not the one that would be doing the hurting,” Clint answers after he throws his dart, hesitating for a moment before he looks at Melinda. “You know the guy has been head over heels for you for decades, Mel.”

Melinda sighed, trading places with him and picking up her next dart. “You know I’d never hurt him intentionally, Clint.”

“I know. And I’m not saying you ever would. I’m a little deaf, not blind; I see how you look at the guy,” Clint replies, shrugging his shoulders as he watches Melinda’s dart sail through the air until it smacked into the board. “Just tryin’ to nudge ya both in the right direction. And he’s kinda like the big brother I never had. Gotta look out for the guy a little.”

Melinda’s smile is small but genuine, and she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, his stubble scratching her lips as she squeezed his forearm. “You’re the best little brother he could have asked for, Clint.”

Clint ducks his head, cheeks pink with embarrassment, as Melinda ruffled his hair, walking towards the door. “Hey, whereya goin’? We didn’t finish our game!”

“Your nieces need nourishment. And no, I’m not making you any!” she calls over her shoulder, smiling at his low grumblings, thumb brushing over the curve of her belly as she let her thoughts wander during the walk to the kitchen.

_

“You’re in the kitchen and nothing’s burning? God help me I may have a heart attack.”

Melinda rolled her eyes at Maria’s teasing tone as the brunette walked into the kitchen, Natasha and another brunette dressed in red trailing behind her. “I learned a few things from my mother while I was away, thank you.”

“It’s about time Lian straightened out your cooking skills,” Natasha replies, picking up an apple and rubbing it against her shirt before taking a bite, wiping at her chin. “Melinda you haven’t met Wanda yet, have you?”

“I can’t say I have,” Melinda answered, extending a hand toward the young girl. Wanda took her hand briefly, lips quirking into a small smile.

“They are dreaming,” she murmured, and Melinda frowned before Wanda gestured towards her stomach. “Your daughters. They dream. It is peaceful.”

Melinda hand reflexively dropped to the curve of her stomach, unable to stop the soft smile that crossed her lips. She looked up at Wanda, unable to properly articulate her gratitude. “Thank you.”

Wanda merely nodded, moving to sit beside Maria at the breakfast bar. Melinda turned back to the frying vegetables in front of her, stirring them around the skillet. “Are you ladies hungry?”

“I could eat,” Natasha answered with a shrug, and Melinda directed the redhead to the pantry.

“There’s tortillas in there, and some chicken in the fridge. I’m making burritos because Mexican food is all I can think about lately,” she replied, earning a chuckle from Maria.

“That’s what you get for reproducing with Coulson,” the brunette tells her with a smirk, and Melinda rolls her eyes.

“Phil also thinks hot pockets can be considered burritos, so I’m not quite sure how sound that logic is,” she informs her, adding a splash of hot sauce to the pan, leaning back from the flame that flickered upwards. “Besides, it’s giving me a chance to work on my cooking skills a little, so I should really be thanking him.”

“Thanking him by sticking your tongue down his throat?” Natasha asks from where she’s dicing the chicken; Maria chokes on the water she’s drinking, and Wanda looks simultaneously confused and amused. Melinda gives a little huff, focusing on turning the burner down. “Do not tell me you haven’t told him how you feel Mel.”

“Things have been a little busy,” she starts, and Natasha shakes her head, checking on the temperature of the second skillet before beginning to brown the meat.

“You are having twins together, Melinda. And it might seem like you have all the time in the world but before you know it you’re going to have two tiny little infants that need all your attention and suddenly five years have passed and you still haven’t told the man you love him,” Natasha says, giving Melinda a hard look. “And I think you’ve both wasted enough time sidestepping how you really feel.”

“It’s…it’s just different now,” Melinda replies softly after a moment, half-heartedly nudging the spoon around the pan. “I don’t want to jeopardize anything between us, not when there’s so much more at stake.”

“But what could you be jeopardizing? The man’s been in love with you since the 80’s,” Maria interjects, leaning forward on her elbows. “If I had a time machine I’d go back to the Academy and smack your thick skulls together.”

“Don’t put that idea in Tony’s head,” Melinda tells her with a shake of her head, lips curled into a tiny smile. She tucks her hair behind her ears- it’s getting long, longer than she’s worn it in years, but she likes how it feels against the skin of her shoulders, and the way Phil curls the ends around his pointer finger to make her smile when she’s feeling moody. She looks up when she feels eyes on her; Wanda is staring at her, a calculating look in her eyes as though she was debating saying something. The brunette witch opens her mouth after a moment, her voice quiet.

“He dreams of you,” she begins, and Melinda’s heart catches in her chest, warmth flooding her body. “They are so loud, I can hear them even from across the base,” here she pauses, swallowing, before she continues. “He dreams of the life you could have had, but mostly he dreams of the future you are making. He dreams of your daughters. They always look like you.”

Melinda’s unable to help the smile Wanda’s words, the sting of tears against the back of her eyes. The brunette gives her a warm smile, tilting her head. “I do not know him, or you, very well, but I do know that he loves you very much. And I do not need dreams to see you feel the same.”

Melinda’s lower lip trembles as she tries to smile, dipping her head before she lifts it, shrugging her shoulders. “Of course I love him. I’ve been in love with him since I was nineteen years old. He’s…he’s everything to me. He’s my best friend. He’s my life; I feel complete when we’re together, and empty when he’s gone. He’s the father of my children,” she says, unable to stop the tears the slip down her cheeks. “He’s my soulmate. He always has been.”

Melinda’s eyes close as two sets of arms wrap around her and a third set of hands take hers, and she allows herself a moment to fall apart under the weight of her friends.

_

“Hey, you got a second?” she looks up from her book at Phil’s oddly nervous voice; she nods, and he helps her stand, tugging her gently with him. “I have something to show you.”

His palm is warm and slightly sweaty, but she just grips it tightly and lets him guide her down the hall. “Phil, where are we going?”

“We’re almost there,” is all he answers with, and she hides her smile as he starts to slow down in front of a closed door. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Phil…” Melinda starts, but Phil does his version of puppy dog eyes so she rolls her eyes before shutting them, listening to the sound of the door opening before Phil’s hands grasped hers, guiding her forward.

“Just a few more steps,” he promises, coming to stand behind her and touching her hips lightly before he stops them, voice a little nervous as he says “open”.

Melinda opens her eyes slowly, lips parting as she gazes around the room. The walls are soft pink, trimmed with white; the ceiling was painted like the morning sky, a mix of stars and the fading moon with the rising sun and lavender clouds in the corner above twin white-painted cribs. Melinda stepped forward, feet sinking into the plush white carpet as she moved to touch the cribs, the soft white bedding covered with cartoon baby giraffes and lions and other jungle animals.

She turned to look at Phil, eyes full of tears as her hands went to the curve of her stomach. “Phil this is beautiful, how did you even-”

“I had help,” he answered, shrugging with a half-smile on his face as she moved closer. “Nat and Bobbi did the painting- Clint helped with the ceiling. Skye did the research on the cribs, and Steve and Mack put them together. Jemma picked out the bedding, and filled the dresser with some clothes after she and Fitz and Skye went shopping. I’ve done an extensive amount of research on strollers and car seats, and Skye helped with some of the online reviews, and we’ve narrowed it down to two-”

Melinda cuts him off by pressing her mouth to his; his surprise renders him immobile for a moment before he sinks into it, hand coming to rest gently on her hip as her arms slid around his neck, bringing him closer. When the kiss broke, his forehead pressed against hers as they caught their breath; his nose brushed hers gently.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” he asked softly, the fingers of his new hand coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear, thumb brushing her cheek lightly, and she shivered in delight at the touch of the soft leather against her skin.

“Because we’ve waited long enough,” she answered simply, hands moving from behind his neck to rest on his chest. “And the fact that you’re so excited to be a dad is a little bit of a turn on.”

Phil laughed, shaking his head slightly as he kisses her again, squeezing her hip gently. “It’s connected to a full renovated bedroom; Mack and Hunter finished installing the mattress this weekend.”

“Care to give me a tour? No one should miss us for at least an hour,” Melinda murmured, tugging at his tie to bring him closer before she kissed him again, mouth opening easily under his.

Phil backed her up carefully, guiding her by her hips towards the door in the left corner; Melinda fumbled with the handle, finally pushing it down and tugging him into the room, mouth still on his.

_

“Holy shit,” is the first coherent thing Melinda manages to say as she collapses next to Phil against the sheets, sprawled out against his chest. They’re both breathing heavily, tangled in the sheets and each other, and she feels him nod next to her as they struggle to catch their breath.

“Yeah,” Phil responds after a moment, chest rising and falling with his inhales as he tugs her closer, dropping a kiss to her sweaty hairline.

“We should have done that way sooner,” she says and he laughs, nose brushing the hull of her ear as he nuzzles into her neck, causing her to arch into him.

“Guess we just have the rest of our lives to make up for it,” he says, a minute pause at the end of his sentence, and she places a kiss to his shoulder before she responds.

“That sounds like a plan to me,” she murmurs back, feeling him wrap his arm tighter around her. Her lips curled into a smile as she guided his free hand to the top of her belly, pressing his palm down against her skin. “Someone’s awake.”

She watched the amazement flick over his face as one of their daughters kicked against his hand, warmth pooling in her chest at the tears the filled the lower rims of his beautiful blue eyes. She reached her free hand up to brush away the drops that spilled onto his cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment, but she stopped him, cupping his chin in her hand until he looked at her. She swiped her thumb under his eyes, touch soft, giving him a small smile.

“The first time I saw the sonogram, I cried,” she confesses, smile widening at the surprise that falls across his expression. “They’re ours, Phil. We made two little humans. I think it’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

“I already love them so much,” he whispers, voice hoarse with emotion as his thumb brushes over the skin of her stomach. “I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much without having met them.”

“I know,” is all she can say back, gaze falling to their joined hands resting against the curve of her belly. “I can’t wait to meet our daughters, Phil.”

“The best mission we’ll ever work together is going to be raising them,” he murmurs into her hair and she sighed happily, sinking further into his embrace.

“And we’ve got a good team backing us up,” she replies, fingers tracing along his arms, finding scars he’d collected over the years with the tips of her fingers. “We couldn’t ask for a better family.”

“I found Simmons reading up on infant sleep patterns yesterday,” Phil says with a chuckle, squirming when Melinda hit the ticklish spot at the inside of his elbow. “And Skye’s already started working on some high tech baby monitoring system that I can barely even begin to comprehend.”

“They’re excited,” Melinda’s unable to keep the smile from her face as she looks up at him. “This is the closest either of them will ever be to being big sisters, when you think about it. Even Fitz is looking forward to having a few apprentices in the lab with him in a few years, he told me he wants to get them tiny little lab coats with their names once they’re old enough.”

“I never thought I could have this life. I never dreamed I deserved it,” Phil confessed after a moment, voice low. Melinda frowned, but let him speak, palm pressing gently over the scar on his chest. “Fatherhood always seemed like a future I was never meant for, even though I’d thought about it more times than I could count. The job just always seemed to be more important than my own wants.”

He lapsed into silence, and Melinda rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, pressing a kiss to his forearm.

“I don’t think they could have asked for a better dad than you, Phil,” Melinda said softly, tilting her head up to look at him, eyes warm. “And there is no one else I would rather do this with than you. I love you, Phil Coulson. I have for a very long time. And I’m glad I can finally tell you every single day how much you mean to me.”

“I love you more than words could ever say,” he replies hoarsely, hand coming up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, smiling at him before she leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. They melted together, falling back into the pillows as Phil’s arms encircled her, dragging her atop him as the sheet fell away.

_

 

“Nat could have taken me, you know,” Melinda says gently as they drive down the highway, Steve weaving the car in and out of traffic.

“I wanted to,” Steve replies, looking over at her with a smile. “And it’s about time I visited her again anyway. Sharon said she’s starting to get worse. Keeps asking for Daniel, even though he died nearly a decade ago.”

Melinda frowns sadly, reaching over to squeeze his forearm gently. His eyes are sad despite the curve of his lips, and he shrugs, eyes back on the road. “I called this morning and the nurse said it was a good day, though.”

“Hopefully we’ll make it a little better,” Melinda says with a small smile, hand resting against the curve of her stomach as she looks out the window. They ride in silence for a while, not talking aside from the soft noise of the radio; Steve’s found some oldies station- which is endlessly amusing to Melinda- and hums along as his thumbs tap to the rhythm against the steering wheel.

“Do you ever wish you’d done things differently?” Steve asks after a bit, gaze still on the road. Melinda thinks for a moment, pushing back against the gentle pressure one of the girls gives against her side, thumb stroking her skin in thought.

“In a way, yes. I wish it hadn’t taken me thirty years to kiss the man I’ve been in love with since I was 19. I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time pushing each other away instead of finding the happiness together that we have now,” she answers, shrugging casually as she chose her words. “But at the same time, if we had, we might not be where we are now. Our daughters aren’t even here yet and they’re the best thing we’ve ever done together, and I wouldn’t trade them for all the years I could have had with Phil. Because now, the years we do have together will be spent raising our children.”

“I can see why Peggy likes you,” Steve replies, a genuine smile gracing his face, and Melinda rolls her eyes affectionately.

“Is she why you asked?” she asked softly after a moment, watching as pain flickered over his face briefly. He gives a half-nod, shoulder jerking.

“I know she had a happy life, and she loved Daniel and their kids and founding SHIELD but…sometimes I wish it had been us. I thought it would be us, for a moment back in time,” he answers, his normally-confident voice going rough with emotion. “And I feel guilty by starting to move on with Natasha because sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday Peggy and I were fighting a war together, even though it was over 70 years ago.”

“You love her, Steve. You always will. Just like she always loved you,” Melinda reminds him, placing her hand gently on his bicep. “But you’re allowed to have your own life, and fall in love again. I’ve seen the way you look at Nat, and the way you make her smile when no one’s looking. If you’re happy, and she’s happy, that will mean the world to Peggy. You both deserve a win.”

“Thank you, Agent May,” Steve starts, and Melinda shakes her head, cutting him off.

“It’s Melinda, Steve. Please. I haven’t been Agent May since I hit 27 weeks. Jemma’s orders,” she rolls her eyes, but the affection in her tone for the young scientist makes it clear she doesn’t mean any ire in the gesture. “But you’re welcome- and I mean it. Everyone deserves to be happy.”

His smile is small but sincere, and he squeezes her hand gently before turning into the driveway that holds the gated home where Peggy lives. Steve refuses to let her get out of the car without his help; she tells him he’s unnecessarily gallant, but allows him to take her hands to guide her down. His palm is warm against her back as they walk into the building, Steve’s face and Melinda’s badge more than enough to get them through the door.

Peggy’s room is around the first corner, and she’s sitting in her chair by the window when they peek their heads in; her face lights up at the sight of them and she ushers them in. “Melinda May, dare I say you must have news for me. And please tell me it involves dear Philip, I was always rooting for you two.”

“You made no secret of that at the Academy, Peggy,” Melinda says with amusement, coming to sit across from Peggy, easing slowly down into the chair with Steve’s help. “But yes, Phil and I are pregnant. Two little girls, due in about nine weeks if I’m lucky enough to make it that far.”

“Oh Melinda I am so happy for you,” Peggy says, leaning forward to grasp Melinda’s hands, squeezing tightly. “You are going to be a wonderful mother, darling. I’ve seen you with your junior agents and you will be nothing short of spectacular.”

“Thank you, Peggy,” Melinda says, unable to keep the tears from her voice, taking the tissue Steve hands her gratefully. “You know, one of the names we’re debating is Margaret. It’s Phil’s favorite.”

“Rightfully so,” says the Brit across from her, an amused glint in her eyes. “That boy always had good taste.”

“You only say that because he likes Steve,” Melinda teases, and Peggy shrugs, tossing her grayed hair over her shoulder.

“That’s all I needed to know to understand what good taste he had,” she replied, and Steve snorted from his position behind Melinda’s chair. “You should tell Philip he should visit me more.”

“He wanted to come today, but he and Skye had a meeting he couldn’t back out of. Director stuff, and all,” Melinda said apologetically, shrugging her shoulders, and Peggy nodded, sighing.

“I remember it quite well. I missed more of Michael and Lucy’s events than I would like to admit,” she says, voice sad, and Melinda squeezes her hands. Peggy catches herself, smiling as she shook herself. “But it’s a different time, and I hear that Skye of yours is quite an impressive agent. Could be director herself someday.”

“Phil’s got high hopes for her, and she’s a brilliant girl,” Melinda says, unable to stop the smile that creeps across her face. “They all are. We’ve got a good bunch.”

“It’s so nice to see you so bright again, Melinda,” Peggy murmurs as she leans forward, eyes soft and warm as they catch Melinda’s. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see this side of you again. I’m quite glad you were able to bring me such happy news. My memory isn’t what it used to be, but I do hope I’ll be able to remember this news even on my bad days. It shall make me smile, just as the thought of my Daniel does.”

Melinda’s unable to form a response, too overwhelmed to speak, so she merely squeezes Peggy’s hands, hoping she conveys her feelings enough. The older woman smiles at her before looking at Steve with an assessing glint in her eyes. “How’s Natasha, Steve?”

She catches her off-guard with her question; he stumbles a bit before he catches himself on the back of Melinda’s chair, his lips parting in surprise. Peggy merely looks amused, watching him flail, before he rights himself. “You’re not the only Avenger who visits me, you know. I quite like Natasha, and your name does make her face light up in a way I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Thanks, Peg,” Steve says, leaning down until he can kiss her forehead, she smiles, eyes shut as he pulled away. A knock on the door sounded, and a nurse popped her head in to signal it was almost time for them to leave. Steve helped Melinda stand before doing the same with Peggy, wrapping an arm around her and helping her to the chair the nurse had brought, squeezing her shoulder gently as the nurse took control of the chair.

“Congratulations again, Melinda. I am so happy for you and Phil,” Peggy said, catching her hands once more. “Please do send pictures. Especially if one of them so happens to bear my namesake.”

Melinda promised Peggy would be the first person they sent pictures to, and she and Steve watched as the nurse turned a corner, Peggy disappearing from view. They both sighed, a mixture of happiness and bittersweet sadness, an unspoken weight hanging between them as they headed back towards the entrance.

“I’m glad today was a good day,” is all Melinda can say as they get back into the car, heading back to the Playground, and Steve’s hand finds hers, squeezing gently.

Melinda doesn’t let go.

_

“What if we just stayed in bed all day,” Phil murmured against her skin as they cuddled in bed, warding off the chill of the early morning of the base. She sighed, sinking further back into him, guiding his hands to where one of the babies was awake and pressed against her skin. His thumb brushed over her belly, sending a shiver through her skin, and he pressed his lips to her shoulder in response.

“I didn’t think directors are allowed to spend all day in bed with their pregnant girlfriend,” she replied, laughing at the look on his face at the word “girlfriend”. “It’s better than baby mama.”

“Please never let those words leave your mouth ever again,” he says, words muffled as he buried his face in her hair. “You’re more than that.”

“I know,” she answered, voice turning serious as she turned to face him, hands soft on his face. “And you’re more than that to me. I know we haven’t really defined this, but-”

“This is it, for me, Lin,” Phil cuts her off with no hesitation, and her lips part, eyes widening slightly. “I know it hasn’t been very long in terms of actually being together, but I’ve never wanted anything more than you. You, and our girls, and this family. That’s all that matters to me. It doesn’t get better than this. And I’m okay with this just being…this. We don’t have to get married, or anything like that, but it’s just you. It’s always just been you.”

Melinda’s fingers trembled slightly as they traced his face, eyes warm as they lingered over his features. “I love you, Phil.”

“I know,” he whispered back, leaning forward to kiss her soundly, his hands against her belly, protecting their daughters even now. “I love you more.”

“This is it for me too, you know,” she murmured, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, watching as his eyes dipped in pleasure at the motion. “It’s always been you. From the very beginning.”

“We’ve wasted so much time,” he said, regret twisting his voice, and she shook her head, shushing him as she placed her thumb over his lips.

“Just because it took us a while to get here doesn’t mean it was wasted. I don’t trust anyone more than I trust you, Phil. You are my best friend. My partner. The only person in the world I could ever imagine facing this with. You, Phil, are the most important person in the world to me. I’ve spent thirty years falling in love with you, and I will spend thirty more falling even more in love with you every day. And I get to watch you be a dad to our beautiful daughters,” she replied, dark eyes brimming with tears, but warm with love. “And I will never get tired of telling you how much you mean to me. You mean a lot to me, Phil. A lot. And I love you so much.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, and she smiled, leaning forward until her forehead touched his.

“You stayed,” is her soft, fragile answer. He tilted his head to brush his mouth over hers, a warm, affirming touch.

“I always will,” he whispers back, hands clutching her skin like he can pull her into him until their skin melds together.

And she believes him, with every fiber and cell of her being.

_

“Good morning May,” Jemma said with a bright smile as Melinda stepped into the room they’d placed the ultrasound equipment in. Melinda handed Jemma the cup of tea she’d made before leaving the kitchen, just like she did with every ultrasound, but still Jemma’s cheeks flushed as she accepted it, lips curled into a precious, surprised smile.

“They’re awfully active this morning,” Melinda told her as she settled in the chair, tugging her shirt up to expose her stomach as Jemma flicked switches, turning the machines on and adjusting a few of the monitors. “One of them is right against my bladder.”

“Well then, we should get some good pictures for the album, shouldn’t we?” Jemma answered with a grin, and Melinda returned the smile, watching as the scientist rolled the bottle of jelly between her hands to warm it up. She squeezed a portion out onto Melinda’s skin, waving the wand around through it as black and gray specks appeared on the monitor; she pressed a few keys and the images moved into focus, two separate faces coming into view. “There they are.”

A few more clicks, and two distinct heartbeats filled the room, Melinda’s breath caught in her chest like it did every time, and Jemma used her free hand to squeeze one of hers gently. “They both are doing wonderfully; their measurements are right on track, and heartrates are right where they should be. I still think we’ll probably have to induce in about four weeks, right around the thirty seven week mark- at the rate they’re growing, they just won’t have enough space. I’ve found someone willing to sell us two NICU-standard incubators, just in case they need some help with their lungs. It’s merely a precaution, but I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Jemma told her as she wiped the jelly from her abdomen gently with a paper towel. “And, I’ve been reading everything I can on labor and delivery- with the help of the midwife your mother recommended, I believe everything should go smoothly. And, Lincoln said if we do have to go the C-section route for some reason, he has a few surgeons on speed dial he could call in a heartbeat.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Melinda said once the scientist paused to take a breath, grasping her hands in her own. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done these last few months, for me and Phil and the girls. We weren’t going to tell anyone their names, but…I’d like to tell you.”

“Oh, May- I’d be honored,” Jemma said, and Melinda smiled, sitting up slightly and keeping the younger woman’s hands in hers.

“Well, we wanted to honor a few of the important people in our lives through our daughters, so we’ve decided to name them Nicole Julia and Margaret Leona,” she said, watching as Jemma’s lips parted in surprise. “Nicole and Margaret after Fury and Peggy, Leona after Fitz, and Julia is a combination of Phil’s mother and you. You’re very important to us, Jemma- you and Fitz. I couldn’t have done this without you, and the rest of our family. Thank you for caring about us as much as you do.”

“I don’t quite know what to say,” Jemma says through tears, though she’s beaming too hard to attempt to wipe them away. “This is so unexpected but- oh May, this means so much to me, and I’m so honored.”

She hugs her impulsively, and Melinda accepted it easily, wrapping her arms around Jemma. She felt the vibrations as Jemma giggled, and she pulled back, hands on her shoulders. “Something funny?”

“Skye’s going to have a fit she’s not in their names and Fitz and I are,” she says, still laughing, and Melinda rolls her eyes in amusement.

“She’s their godmother, so I think she’ll be pacified,” Melinda tells her like it’s a secret, and Jemma’s grin doesn’t waver. “Phil’s going to hate that I told you without him; he’s been excited about this since we decided on the names. I’ll let him tell Fitz, he’ll like that.”

“Fitz will be thrilled too, absolutely,” Jemma said enthusiastically, helping Melinda up from the seat and turning to shut down the equipment. “Oh, I’m so happy for you May. And just think, only about four more weeks until we get to meet them!”

The excitement in the young scientist’s voice warmed the pit of Melinda’s stomach, and she followed Jemma out of the room to where the rest of the team was settling down to breakfast. She slid into the seat beside Phil, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he smiled down at her, affection clear in his eyes.

It’s the best start to a morning she could ever imagine.

_

“You do know that there’s still another three weeks until Jemma predicts I’ll be induced, right?” Melinda asks, amusement on her face as Phil begins to open the box with one of the two carseats they’d picked out in it. He looks up at his position on the floor, raising an eyebrow, and Melinda throws her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine! Nat and Maria promised to take me to the smoothie place on Seventh because all I can think about is a Passionfruit Mango Orange Banana Blast. I’ll be back later.”

She pressed a kiss to the tips of her fingers before blowing it in his direction; he mimicked catching it and tucking it in his pocket. She rolled her eyes, lips curled into a smile, before she turned to leave, disappearing just as Fitz appeared with Tony and Bruce steps behind him.

“I see you brought reinforcements,” Phil said, tone amused, and Tony smirked as Bruce picked up a sheet of instructions.

“I prefer to think of myself as the only force necessary,” Tony started, and Phil rolled his eyes, pushing himself into a standing position.

“Yeah, well, let’s assemble these carseats and then we’ll see how necessary you are,” he replied, pulling out the various pieces of plastic and small baggies of screws. “Alright Bruce, what’s the first step?”

The first few steps are simple; insert piece A into slot B, turn ninety degrees, etc. They assemble the seats with relative ease, allowing a quick moment of celebration; Clint wanders in, a giant mug of coffee in his hand and eyes half-shut with sleep.

“Good afternoon Agent Barton,” Phil says as he looks up from the assembled carseats, though there’s amusement in his tone, and Clint flips him off before settling in a chair, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Talk to me when that carseat is in the actual SUV, Coulson,” is all he says before he takes a long drink of coffee, eyes shut in apparent bliss. “God that’s some good shit.”

“If you swear like that in front of my daughters you will find that beloved bow splintered into tiny little pieces,” Phil said calmly as he carried the first seat to the car; Clint snorted into his coffee, kicking his feet up onto a nearby chair as he settled in to watch.

Fitz climbed in on the other side of the car, Tony and Bruce taking spots in the front and passenger seats, the instructions between them. “Okay, you have to loop the seatbelt through the gap and tug it across the bottom, right there- no, not that way, Phil, the other way- see, you’re- you are DOING IT WRONG COULSON.”

“SO STOP YELLING AT ME AND TELL ME HOW TO FIX IT,” Phil yells back before he catches himself; he takes a breath, smoothing a hand over his head. "There are three world-class minds- two of them engineers- and the head of a federal agency in this room and none of us can install this car seat?"

“Step aside, Director,” came Clint’s voice from behind Phil, holding out a hand expectantly. Phil sighed in defeat, moving back and letting the archer into the backseat; a few clicks later, the seat was installed and Clint climbed out with a self-satisfied smirk, dusting off his hands. “I’ve got three kids. I know how to install a carseat.”

“Melinda never finds out,” is all Phil says, and the other three men nodded, silently leaving the SUV and leaving Clint to install the second seat.

_

“We’re stealing your girl, Coulson,” is Nat’s greeting once Phil opens the door to his room. He raises an eyebrow as the redhead brushes past him to where Melinda is on the couch, a book in hand and a raised eyebrow of her own.

“Oh really?” she asked, amused, and Natasha nodded, offering Melinda her hands.

“We’re having a girl’s night, since you’re being induced in a few days,” the assassin informed her as she helped her to her feet. “You don’t really have a choice and Skye’s really excited about it.”

Melinda sighed, shaking her head fondly. “Fine. But I have to be asleep by ten, okay? These little girls tire me out.”

“You got it Mom,” Natasha said with a mock salute. “Say goodbye to the ball and chain then meet us in the lounge by the kitchen.”

“You do know I’m the director of a federal agency, right?” Phil asked, tone laced with amusement, and Natasha merely pecked his cheek before she disappeared out the door. Melinda let him wrap his arms around her, leaning into him with a sigh. “There goes our quiet night.”

“Tomorrow can be our last quiet night,” she murmured, cheek against his chest, and he nodded against her hair, pressing a kiss there. “I’ll come back to sleep here anyway, I can’t do a night on the couch like I used to. And I don’t want to be without you.”

His arms tightened a little at her words, and his nose brushed her ear gently as his lips touched her neck. “Go have fun. I’ll be here when you come back.”

She kissed him, hand cupping the back of his head, before they parted and he shooed her out the door, his smile warm and affectionate. It’s brings a dumb grin to her face, and she knows her cheeks are pink as she walks into the lounge where the girls are setting up. Maria gives a low wolf whistle, and Melinda rolls her eyes.

“Lovesick Melinda May is a look I could get used to,” the brunette says, and Melinda snorts, settling into the chair Sharon pulls out for her with a smile at the blonde.

“I am not lovesick. I’m just happy,” she replies with a shrug, accepting a glass of water gratefully. “And I’m not going to hide it anymore. I’ve spent enough of my life hiding away. It’s time to live it out of the shadows.”

Skye beams up at her, affectionately squeezing her ankle before holding up a bucket of nail polish. “So, what color is it gonna be?”

“I have to?” Melinda confirms, and when Skye nods, she sighs. “Anything dark and not black, I guess.”

Natasha starts handing out tequila shots once Skye unscrews the nail polish, and Melinda settles back to watch in amusement as the redhead starts a game of Never Have I Ever. “Let’s start with…never have I ever kissed an Inhuman.”

Skye takes a shot, unsurprisingly, but everyone’s eyebrows shoot up when Wanda also takes a shot, looking uncharacteristically pink. “Alright, details!”

“I have gone on a few dates with your Lincoln,” she tells them, flush spreading, and Skye gives a happy little squeal of excitement. “He is very kind. And a good kisser.”

“So that’s why he’s been happy lately!” Jemma exclaims, her own lips curled up in a smile as she squeezes Wanda’s arm affectionately. “Oh I’m so happy for you two.”

“Good job Maximoff,” Natasha says, impressed. “Happy looks good on you.”

Wanda ducks her head, pleased, before pouring another shot. “My turn. Never have I ever stolen a car.”

There’s a collective groan as most of the room drinks, and Melinda leans back into her chair, hands on her belly and lips curved into a smile.

_

“I don’t even remember what my feet look like at this point,” Melinda said with a low groan, easing herself into one of the chairs at the breakfast bar. Phil looked at her in amusement, already getting her mug of tea ready.

“Well, they are polished a perfect dark purple, thanks to Skye,” he starts, and Melinda rolls her eyes, watching as he carefully poured pancake batter onto the hot pan in a perfect circle. “It matches your fingers quite nicely.”

“It’s been forever since I’ve had my nails done,” she said, flexing her fingers experimentally, enjoying the dark polish coating her nails. “It’s been a long time since I had a girl’s night quite like that as well.”

“They had fun,” Phil reminds her softly, and she nods, thumb running along the rim of her mug as he places it in front of her. “Plus, only a few more days before our lives our ruled by two tiny little babies.”

“Sixty five hours to induction,” she murmured, hand against her belly; one of the babies pushed back against the pressure. “I still think we should just have sex until I got into labor.”

“And as fantastic an idea as that is, Jemma said the induction is a better idea,” Phil said, lips curled against a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile back, watching his forearms flex as he flipped the pancakes.

“If you’re going to talk about having sex I’ll find breakfast somewhere else,” Skye said, looking a little green; Jemma and Bobbi followed soon after, also on the queasy-looking side, and Maria, Nat, Wanda, and Sharon trailed after, at least looking mildly more bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“So how do those tequila shots feeling this morning?” Melinda asked, barely able to hold back her laughter as the gaggle of girls settling around the table.

“The word tequila is banned from the base. And also the English language,” Bobbi said, voice muffled from where she had her face pressed against the cool metal of the table. Maria nodded in agreement, but Natasha merely rolled her eyes.

“None of you would survive in Russia,” she said with a snort, accepting the glass of juice Phil handed her. “That tequila was barely a third of our vodka.”

“Nat, not even you can handle true Russian vodka,” Phil says, amusement in his tone as he placed a plate of pancakes in the center of the table. The redhead gave him a look, and he outright laughed. “I remember a certain mission in Moscow…”

“You finish that sentence and you’ll be meeting your daughters in a full-bodied cast,” the assassin tells him, and he merely shakes his head, moving to sit beside Melinda to eat. She leaned into him, curled against his side with her free hand on his thigh, and he relaxed at the touch. She was warm and pliable; she smelled like the lemon from her shampoo and the jasmine of her tea lingered on her breath, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling at the huff she gave.

“You’re gonna get syrup in my hair,” she said, nudging him, and he merely pressed another kiss there, smiling as she half-heartedly attempted to wriggle away. “You’re hopeless,” she murmured, but tilted her head up to look at him, kissing him back easily when his mouth covered hers.

“Aw c’mon guys, we’re eating here,” Skye complained, though there was no malice in her teasing, and Phil shook his head, kissing Melinda once more. “Save it for the bedroom. And never let me have to hear anything about it ever.”

“Skye,” Jemma chided gently, nudging her friend, sending Melinda a warm smile. “I think it’s rather adorable.”

“I agree,” came Wanda’s voice, surprising the group, but Melinda’s smile merely grew as she twined her fingers with Phil’s, content.

“Eh, they’ve waited long enough, I think we can allow a little PDA,” Maria added, shrugging her shoulders, her own lips curved in a half-hidden smile.

Phil gave a mock bow, hand never leaving Melinda’s. “We appreciate your allowance of public displays of affection.”

“That is, until my mother arrives,” Melinda reminds him, kissing his cheek before she eased herself out of the chair, pushing her now-empty plate aside. Phil groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and he dropped his head into his hands as Melinda stifled a laugh. “Come on, the girls can do the dishes. Fitz has something he wants to show us for the nursery.”

“I call drying duty!” came a chorus of yells as Phil and Melinda left the kitchen, and she merely leaned into his side, hiding her smile under his chin.

_

“Good morning,” she rouses at the kiss Phil leaves on her shoulder, smiling as she shifted back into him.

“Good morning,” she replies, voice hoarse with sleep as she rubbed at her eyes.

“Ready to meet our daughters?” he asked softly, finger running over the curve of her belly as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. She nodded, fingers lacing through his, guiding it down to where one of the babies was awake and kicking.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” she whispered, ear pressed against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat.

“What do you want to do for our last few hours before we become parents?” he asked, voice low, and she smiled, looking up at him.

“Let’s go watch the sunrise,” she answered, and he nodded, eyes full of naked affection as he tucked a few strands of hair out of her face and behind her ear. He helped her into her robe, and twined their fingers together as they headed to the large window towards the back of the building.

His arm slipped around her waist as her head leaned against his shoulder, and together they stood quietly and watching as the horizon turned lavender with the rise of dawn. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, but his eyes weren’t on the window; they were on Melinda, watching as the pale morning light touched her face, leaving it awash with the pastel colors of the early day. She caught him looking and her cheeks flushed at the attention, eye lashes touching her cheek as she dipped her head.

“You’re staring,” she murmurs, eyes still on the window, and he shrugs, leaning forward to press a kiss to her temple.

“Just trying to memorize this moment,” he says in response, and Melinda turns to look at him, hands cupping his cheeks.

“I’m never going anywhere,” she whispered, leaning forward until her lips touched his, a soft caress. “Let’s just watch the sunrise before we have to go meet Jemma.”

He just pulls her closer until every part of them possible is touching, and together they watch the dawn rise until they had to slip away. They head towards the section of the lab Fitz had turned into a birthing suite, where Jemma was already there, triple checking the equipment while Lincoln stood in the background, marking things off on a clipboard. He looked up at the sound of their footsteps, lips curling into a smile.

“Morning May, Director,” he said, setting the clipboard aside. “Ready to meet your girls?”

“I’ve been ready for the last two weeks,” Melinda jokes, accepting the gown Lincoln gives her with a slight twist of her lips. “High fashion you’re handing me here.”

“It was either pink or green, and I figured green was the better option,” the blonde tells her, and he laughs at the disgusted look on her face. “Once you’re changed, we can start the Pitocin and get you all hooked up to the monitors.”

Melinda nodded before disappearing into the bathroom, and Phil blew out a breath, scrubbing a hand down his face. Jemma’s hand touched his forearm and he looked up at her, finding her smiling at him kindly.

“I know this is going to be difficult, sir, but we won’t let anything happen to her. I promise,” she reassured him, and he smiled weakly in return. “All of three of them are in the best hands possible.”

“I wouldn’t trust them with anyone else, Jemma,” Phil replies, and the scientist’s face lights up before she leans forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I look like a watermelon,” Melinda says, disgruntled as she walks out of the bathroom, depositing her clothes in the armchair in the corner before lowering herself slowly onto the bed, letting Phil help her into the center. Lincoln explained a few things about the drip he was putting her on as he set up the IV. Once everything was secure and the Pitocin had started, he attached the fetal monitors to her belly, showing her the chart that would print out once her contractions started, and where the babies’ heart rates would be displayed.

“I’ll come to check on you in a little while, once the Pitocin has a change to start to work,” he tells them, hands folded behind his back. “You are currently at two centimeters dilated, and at the last check up your cervix was already softening, so it shouldn’t take too long for you to notice once the contractions start.”

Melinda nodded, hand curled around Phil’s. Lincoln’s eyes softened, and he laid a gentle hand on her leg through the blankets. “For now, just try and relax. Nap, if you think it’ll help. Once the contractions start and before the epidural it’ll be hard to sleep, so try to save as much strength as you can before then. I’ll send Skye in.”

“Thank you, Lincoln,” Melinda said, smile genuine, and the blonde ducked his head before he left the room. Skye darted in not long after she left, and she settled in the chair near Melinda’s bed with ease, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Okay, so am I allowed to start guessing names now?” she asked, and Melinda let out a laugh.

“Sure. It’ll at least pass the time.”

_

“It’s okay guys. You can come in,” Phil’s voice is soft, slightly slurred with a mixture of exhaustion and elation, and his eyes are bright with happiness despite the late hour. “Everyone’s awake.”

The group files in, filling the room, everyone’s eyes on where Melinda was curled up in the hospital bed. She held one small bundle in her arms, and Phil the other; he moved to sit beside her on the bed, his free arm wrapping around her as she settled into his side.

“Everyone, we’d like you to meet the newest members of SHIELD. Margaret Leona and Nicole Julia,” Melinda said softly, eyes falling to the baby in her arms. “Margaret is older by two minutes, and she will likely never let her sister live it down.”

“Skye, we’ve obviously asked you to be their godmom,” Phil said, looking up from his daughters, and Skye beamed, tears in her eyes. He looked over at Fitz, who was looking a little watery himself, and gave the engineer a smile. “Fitz, we’d like you to be their godfather.”

The Scot’s lips parted in surprise before he nodded furiously, squeezing Jemma little tighter into his side. “I would be honored, sir.”

“Thank you, all of you,” Melinda said after a moment, beckoning Skye to come over to take Margaret, watching as the younger woman cradled her goddaughter to her chest. “We could not have done this without you all, and we wouldn’t have wanted to. These little girls are so lucky to be able to call you all family,” she paused, finding Phil’s hand, unable to stop the tears from filling her eyes. “We’re very lucky to be able to call you our family.”

Phil nodded, and the whole room seemed to collectively sniffle before Maria burst out “God we’re a bunch of emotional losers, let me see one of my nieces.”

Soft laughter filled the room, and Steve moved to shake Phil’s hand, cupping his elbow gently. “No one deserves this happiness more than you two.”

“Thank you, Steve. That means a lot,” Phil says, unable to help himself from looking down at Melinda, combing a hand gently through her hair. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, and for being willing to help Skye while she takes over as Director.”

“It wasn’t even a question,” Steve answers warmly, squeezing his hand once more before stepping back to allow more congratulations. There was a flurry of activity and the passing of their daughters between everyone, but soon enough they were alone, Margaret and Nicole both in Melinda’s arms, sound asleep and peaceful.

“I don’t want to put them down,” Melinda whispered, unable to keep her eyes off of their faces and Phil kissed her temple. “I still can’t believe they’re here. They’re real.”

“We have our whole lives to remind us that they are,” he murmured back, close to her ear, and she leaned into him until his head tilted down, mouth brushing hers. “Thank you for taking the step we needed to make this possible.”

“Thank you for believing in this future all those years ago, even when I couldn’t,” Melinda answered, lips touching his with each word, and he sighed, contentment settled deep in his bones.

“I love you, Melinda May.”

“And I love you, Phil Coulson,” comes her easy, tired reply. Margaret gives a sleepy gasp a few seconds later, Nicole following suit soon after, and Phil can’t help but think he’d gladly fall asleep to those sounds every day for the rest of his life.

_

“Go get some sleep,” Phil murmured softly in her hair; Melinda protested quietly against his chest, though her eyes stayed shut and she snuggled further into him, sighing. Margaret snuffled softly, stretching out in her carrier before she settled back down, thankfully not waking. “I can watch them for a few hours, and you need to rest, Lin. You’ve been running on fumes the past few days. I can handle our daughters long enough for you to nap.”

It’s their first day back in their room; Margaret and Nicole had been given a clean bill of health by Lincoln and Jemma, and Phil knew Melinda was aching to sleep in their bed for a while. She’d barely slept, instead preferring to hold one of their daughters while they slept, as though reassuring herself they wouldn’t disappear if she blinked. Moving home seemed to make it real to her, and he knew she’d be crashing soon enough.

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him sleepily before she stood slowly, stretching her arms upward, rising up onto her tip toes as she leaned forward, adjusting the blanket over Nicole’s legs and brushing her fingers over Margaret’s cheek softly. Her fingers caught Phil’s momentarily before she disappeared into their bedroom, leaving him with two sleeping babies.

Phil halfheartedly reads through a few of the reports Skye had brought him to read over- she was doing an excellent job of stepping into the shoes of the director, with the help of Steve and Fury. He was infinitely proud of her, and was glad he’d been right to fight for her taking over more of his duties as he focused on learning how to be a father.

He’s halfway through another report when the first stirrings of a cry begin; he sets the folder aside as Nicole’s face scrunches up. He has the fastenings of the carrier undone in a flash and he carefully picks her up, rocking her gently as she whimpers softly, burrowing into his chest.

“Sounds like someone had a bad dream,” he whispered as he cradled her to his chest; she quieted just as Margaret started, and with a small amount of maneuvering he had both of his girls in his arms, one on each side of his chest. “There, that’s better.”

The feeling of twin heartbeats against his own was soothing in a way he’d never anticipated; Nicole’s nose pressed into his collarbone, breath warm against his skin, and Margaret’s tiny hand clutched at the sleeve of his shirt, grip strong. Everything was quiet and peaceful; perfect, in every sense of the word.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep; he merely wakes when he feels Margaret’s warm weight being removed from his body. He tenses, alert, but calms at Skye’s quiet voice assuring him everything’s okay.

“That’s totally going to end up being May’s new phone screen,” she teases softly, phone slipping back into her pocket, clearly indicating she’d taken pictures of him asleep with the girls in his arms. “Looks like somebody took a nice nap.”

“What time is it?” he asked, carefully sitting up and adjusting Nicole in his arms, smiling down at her when he noticed she was awake, letting her wrap her hands around his finger.

“Some time after six,” Skye answers, rocking Margaret gently and smiling down at her. “I figured I’d come check on you guys when you didn’t show up for dinner.”

“I should wake Melinda up,” Phil said, standing carefully and shifting the baby in his arms. Trip walked into the room, smiling at them as Skye turned to look at him, her entire face brightening.

“Trip and I can change the girls while you do that, then I’m sure it’s time for them to eat,” Skye replied, and Phil smiled in thanks as Trip stepped forward, letting Phil carefully place Nicole into his waiting arms. “It’s good practice, y’know.”

“Oh god don’t even joke,” Phil said, groaning softly and rubbing his hand over his face. “How about you let me get used to having infant daughters before you bring grandkids into the mix, please?”

Skye rolled her eyes, lips curled in amusement before she nudged Trip in the direction of the nursery. Phil rolled his neck, stiff from falling asleep on the couch, before he headed into the bedroom; he opened and shut the door behind him quietly before padding over to the bed where Melinda was wrapped in the blankets, arms around the body pillow she’d grown used to sleeping with while pregnant.

Her lips were parted as she slept, hair slipping into her face, and Phil took a moment to just _look at her_. It was hard to believe that a mere six months ago he thought he’d lost her for good, and now he had her, and two beautiful new daughters, and their entire lives ahead of them. He couldn’t imagine anything better than the family they’d built; the home they’d built.

“You’re staring so loudly,” Melinda murmured sleepily, pulling him from his thoughts. He smiled, coming over to slip in behind her, curling up against her back as she tugged his arm around her, pulling him closer. “What were you thinking about? I could practically hear the wheels turning up there in that head of yours.”

“I was thinking about how happy I am,” he replied in a low voice, just next to her ear. Her lips curled into a smile and her eyes stayed shut as she snuggled further back into him. “Six months ago I never would have imagined this is where my life would be. Now I can’t imagine it any other way, and I don’t want to.”

“And you’ll never have to,” she said, turning over to look at him, hands cupping his face. “We’re a family, Phil. And I love our family. So much.”

“I love you,” he answered simply, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, fingers trailing down her cheek. “And I love the home we’ve built together.”

Melinda smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly, sighing contentedly. From the next room over they could hear Skye laughing, Trip joining in, and their lips curled upwards into matching smiles as they broke the kiss, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing.

“Our family’s waiting.”


End file.
